THE PLANTER IN THE OLD COUNTRY. 
a bad fellow on the whole. He will come round by 
and by no doubt, and, in the mean time, we must 
just bear a little with him.” Supposing onr friend, 
as is generally the case, times his departui-e so as to 
arrive in summer. He, as a matter of course, gets 
up at five or six in the morning ; looking out of his 
bedroom window how beautiful everything appeal's, 
the fresh green foliage, so different from what he has 
been aceustomed to gaze on, the song of birds, the 
bright cheerful sun, without the burdensome heat, 
how pleasant to go out and have a stroll. So, having 
finished his morning toilet, he steps out into the 
public room, and also steps into utter darkness, for 
no one is up, and the shutters of the room are all 
close barred. After some difficulty, stumbling over 
chairs, and knocking his shins against sofas, he reaches 
the door, or window, fumbling about for the bar 
catches, and not knowing their way he lets them 
down with a crash, which alarms the whole house. 
If ressing-gowns and night-caps peer through the murky 
light on the stairs, the owners therein being evidently 
under the impression that a gang of house-breakers 
have commenced operations, but at last, when aware 
of what is going on, they say one to the other, ‘fit 
is only that queer fellow up at this time of the night." 
Doors are then heard to slam, bolts and locks to 
turn, as much as to say, “We will keep him out 
here at all events.” A flood of light having been 
admitted into the sitting-room reveals, to say the least 
of it, an uncomfortable sight. In anticipation of a 
morffing cleaning, the night before the carpets had 
been taken up and rolled up in a corner. The tables 
are covered, or rather heaped up, wdth coucli pillows 
and chair mats, the coqches themselves are standing 
up one end, and the chairs all piled up in a corner, 
pne over the other. A feeling that he wants some- 
thing now comes over him, a somewhat similar one to 
what he felt when he used to shout out : “ Boy, 
bring cqfFee ” — but there are no boys here. The 
girls are all in bed, from which wmre they to be rouseri 
at that untimely hour, it would probably lead to a 
request for wages due, and a discharge, or at all events 
a notice to leave. The kitchen fire is black out, so 
our friend sighs, lights his pipe, or cigar, mechanic- 
ally takes an umbrella, unbolts the door, and walks 
out into the fresh morning air, which is all, or moi e 
than all, he expected to find it. He probably walks 
out, into or through a densely populated district, 
but all is still as the regions of the dead, shutters 
and blinds all closed, not a being to be seen. By and 
by a few doors will open, and servant women, with 
i?are heads and arms, may be seen, dowp on their 
